So, recently I completed the thirty crossdressing drabble prompt over at livejournal, so I thought I'd post them here. Ten at a time. I own nothing, you sue no one. Mixed WWE and TNA. Ratings may differ, but not too much because a lot of the men are wearing unfitting female clothing. Don't say I didn't warn you, and enjoy.

1-10

1. Frenchmaid (148 words, Shawn Michaels, Triple H)

Hunter's eyes were focused on the curve of his maid's ass as he dusted his mantle. The skirt barely covered his rear, and Hunter knew that, if he bent over only a little, he could get a peek of that glorious ass.

He quietly walked over, imagining his maid's reaction to his arms around his small waist. He'd lean on Hunter, letting the aristocrat get a smell of that long, blonde hair, maybe even press a kiss on his neck. He'd let his hand trail down the front of the little white apron...

"Ow!" His hand flew up to his eye, cupping the skin around it. He didn't expect Shawn to whip around and hit him with the handle of his feather duster.

"Back away," Shawn warned, wielding the duster like a weapon.

"This is coming out of your paycheck," he grumbled, wondering how he'd explain the shiner to his guests later.

2. Nurse (124 words, Matt Hardy, Chris Jericho)

"Just lay on your stomach." He didn't need to ask Matt twice. He laid there, aware of the fact that the hospital gown did little to hide his back or his legs. Once the nurse's fists began kneading into his back, he sighed in satisfaction... he was good at this.

"Relax now." Matt turned his head a little, doing his best to get an eyeful of his nurse. The white, thigh length stockings, the short, clean uniform... just the sight of Nurse Jericho was enough to make him feel legions better. As his fists went lower, down to the small of his back, pictures of Jericho laying on his back, legs spread, filled his mind.

"Good?"

"Oh yes," Matt nodded, grinning at the images crossing his mind.

3. Bunny (139 words, Bret Hart, Shawn Michaels)

"Be very quiet," Bret whispered, holding his rifle carefully as he tip toed through the forest, "I'm hunting wabbits." He looked down, seeing the footsteps of his prey in the snow. He followed them, tip toeing, eventually coming upon what looked like a rabbit hole

He laid a carrot down by the hole, running behind the tree to wait for the rabbit to come out of the hole. He watched quietly, any movements making his finger tighten on the trigger.

"What're we waitin' for?"

"That wascally wabbit. Now be very quiet. We don't want to alert him to our presense."

"You mean this wascally wabbit?" Bret didn't have time to register the words. He was unconscious before he hit the ground, the punch hitting home. Shawn Michaels walked over to the carrot, grabbing it and biting it.

"You'll never get my fluffy tail, doc."

4. Princess (180 words, AJ Styles, Shawn Michaels)

"What's a matter?" AJ looked up from his window, seeing his older brother at the door. He moved over a bit, making room so Shawn could sit next to him. Shawn pushed down the ruffles of his pink dress, unable to sit comfortably in it. "Fathers going to kill you when he finds out you're still in your nightgown. He has guests coming over soon."

"I hate that thing." AJ motioned over to the corset one of the servants left our for him. "I can't breathe in it."

"I can't breathe in mine either, but it's fashion."

"I don't care about fashion."

"Well, Father does, so... up." Shawn helped his younger brother up, forcing his hands up so he could pull the nightgown over his head. Once he stood there in his bloomers, Shawn grabbed the corset, walking towards him.

"Can I... skip that?" AJ asked warily, "I'll even put on the petticoats this time, just not... that."

"Listen Allen, I'm not getting in trouble with Father for you, so either you let me put this on you or I force it on you. Choose."

5. Sailor Fuku (110 words, John Morrison, CM Punk)

John Morrison's legs hung off the side of the pier. His shoes and socks were beside him as he wet his feet, just relaxing after a long day of school.

Suddenly, a pair of hands grabbed his white tie, pulling it. He turned around, grinning at his good friend Phil. "How'd I know it was you?"

"Cause I'm the only one who can mess with you, Morrie." Phil kicked off his shoes and pulled off his socks, sitting next to Morrison and putting his feet in the water also. For a while they just sat there, idly kicking their feet and enjoying the cool water, but then Phil said, "Rough day?"

6. Kimono (138 words, Christian, Yoshitatsu)

Christian sat on the mat awkwardly, wishing he was in a chair at a regular sized table rather than on a mat near a giant footstool. But Yoshi wanted to do this for him, so he decided not to argue with it.

His mouth dropped open when Yoshi entered the room, wearing a purple kimono decorated with yellow flowers, and holding a teapot. He had no idea what to say; he was stuck between shock and... well, shock.

Yoshi bent down onto his knees on the mat on the other side of the small table, leaning over and quietly pouring tea into Christian's cup. Once it was full, Christian put on the best smile he could muster and said, "This was really nice of you."

"Thank you."

"No, thank you."

"Thank you."

"No, thank you."

"Thank you."

Christian shook his head. This is getting old...

7. Nightdress/negligee (157 words, Evan Bourne, Tommy Dreamer)

Evan opened his robe, looking at himself in the mirror. He actually liked the way the purple lingerie felt, although he felt awkward in it. But he told himself he'd do it; after all, he lost the bet with Cody. He had to show his boyfriend how he looked in lingerie... in front of the whole locker room.

He dropped the robe, breathing, telling himself he could do it. After a few moments, he almost believed himself. He nodded at his reflection before opening the door, walking down the sections of the ECW locker room. He ignored the looks of confusion, amusement, and derision he was getting, turning the corner to where he knew Tommy Dreamer was taping up his wrists.

"Hey there big boy," he said, putting on the most exaggerated voice he could muster.

"What the heck are you on, Ev..." Tommy turned around, jumping at the sight. His eyes widened. "Um, Evan?"

"Yeah?"

"What the fuck are you on?"

8. Waitress (154 words, Christian, Edge, Jeff Hardy)

"Why are we here?" Christian asked, sitting across from his brother at one of the least frequented diners in town. "You hate this place."

"No, I don't."

"Yes, you do." Christian nodded, studying Adam, trying to understand him, "You said their burgers taste like fried crap. And I agree."

"You misunderstood me."

"No, I did not, you said clearly..."

Two menus slapped down on the table, cutting Christian off. He didn't hear the waitress rollerskate over, and didn't know he was listening. Jeff Hardy put his hands on the small pink skirt, looking at Christian testily. "So, you want fried crap, or is there something else on the menu you're after?"

"Don't listen to him, he's an ass," Adam said, wearing the biggest eat me grin he could muster. Christian glared at him, finally understanding what they were doing there. He did not bring me to this crap joint so he can flirt with Hardy's little brother. Oh fuck me.

9. Secretary (150 words, Jeff Jarrett, Eric Bischoff)

Jeff crossed his legs nervously, knowing that his boss was trying to peek up his skirt. He hated the gray business attire, but Bischoff insisted he wear the demeaning dress when he worked in his office.

Think of the boys, he thought, gritting his teeth. He couldn't just quit, not when his boys were still here... and they could be abused by the bastard. He had to protect his boys, the James Storms and the Eric Youngs and the Samoa Joes and everyone who put their trust in him when TNA was just a fool's dream.

"Oh, Jeff?" Jeff looked up, locking his eyes on the loathed man. "I've got something here for you to do. Can you come here?"

Jeff sighed, standing up and flattening his shirt. Until he could find a way to fee TNA from him, he'd do everything he had to do to protect his boys. Everything and anything.

10. Flapper (97 words, John Morrison, Evan Bourne, Randy Orton)

Orton watched the dance floor with a smile on his face. He couldn't believe how happy John looked, dancing with Evan Bourne. They wore similar outfits, dresses with fringe on them and head bands with feathers on them; except Evan's was purple and black and John's was red and black.

This is why he opened this nightclub; it was a new day, with new ideas. He had to progress along with them, if he wanted to stay relevant.

John and Evan walked over, sitting in the booth, getting a breather. Randy's smile became a grin, and he said, "Drinks, friends?"